


good morning, sunshine

by screechfox



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Gen, Winter Martyn, platonic cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-15
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-17 23:08:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3547199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screechfox/pseuds/screechfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winter doesn't have to be cold if you're in the right company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	good morning, sunshine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cadaeic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadaeic/gifts).



> I blame Cad. I blame Cad for many things, but especially this fic. We didn't even have a particularly long brainstorming session, but this still leaped out onto the screen like an energetic gecko.
> 
> One day I'll actually write up my Martyn headcanons as a proper actual fic. 
> 
> (Did you know, I actually have about 10x the amount of ideas for Yoggirls fics that I do for Martyn-centric fics, but I can never actually find the motivation to write them. Which is really annoying.)

Sometimes, when you're feeling cold and dead and just a little cruel, all you really need is someone to put up with you and not mind you being an arse. Even better, someone who can snark right back at you and make the verbal sparring less one-sided and pitying than it normally is.

Martyn has given up on tutting over the dismal state of the Christmas tree in the room. It's not even technically meant to be there anymore – the day of celebration was months ago, and was full of warmth and niceness and gifts. Somehow, even though it's meant to be an evergreen, the green spines on it are drooping and dejected; the glittering plastic star on top only doing so much to brighten it up. Martyn will prod someone about taking better care of it later. Right now, he's just thankful for even the weakest thrum of magic making him feel just a little better.

He's curled up on the sofa, Christmas tree directly to his right, a festive brick fireplace (almost) directly in front of him, and Sparkles* sitting to his left. Martyn lets one hand brush over the greenery next to him as he cocks his head at Sparkles*. Unlike most people that Martyn hangs out with, the redhead just seems vaguely amused by his indignance about trees. Okay, Sparkles* tends to be amused, but Martyn's been friends with him long enough to know that this is different. The curve of his ever-present smirk is softer, and the constant gleam in his eyes seems almost brighter, somehow.

Somehow, Martyn feels a little more energised around Sparkles* in the winter. Well, in general, but it's most noticeable in winter. Martyn doesn't really know why, but he can't really complain, can he? Not when he can feel himself relax and unwind just sitting in a warm room next to him.

Idly, Martyn wonders what a pair they must look like. Martyn, with an bruise-blue pallor to his skin, and Sparkles*, with his perpetual healthy glow. Well, if anyone was in the room with them, at least. But Strippin isn't even there – a bit of a pathetic event for something meant to be a Dream Team gathering – because he's off frolicking with flowers or something, so it's just Martyn and Sparkles*. To be honest, Martyn wouldn't mind frolicking with flowers himself, but apparently he's not _popular_ enough for that, or something.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Martyn stops running his fingers over the tree's leaves, and shifts in the seat to look at Sparkles* directly. Very purposefully, he rests his bare feet on Sparkles*'s jeans, spreading his toes out to let the cold seep in as best as possible. Hey, if he's going to freeze, he's going to inflict freezing cold on others too. It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that, holy Notch, how is Sparkles* as hot as the fucking _sun_ in the middle of winter? There might be a roaring fireplace in front of them both, but Martyn reckons that Sparkles* must have some sort of, like, internal heating system.

It's making Martyn feel warmer, and letting even more of the tension curl out of Martyn's body. Well, at least until Sparkles* moves his hand to run over one foot, strategically tickling the sensitive patches of rough skin. Martyn scowls, pushing his foot into Sparkles* leg indignantly. The redhead's only response to this is to mockingly drape himself over his arm of the sofa, pretending as if Martyn's push had enough force to knock him over.

“You're an asshole,” Martyn remarks, scowling at Sparkles*. He retreats his feet back and curls up at his end of the sofa, crossing his arms and pointedly directing all of his attention at the tree. There's a part of him that's amused, but it's mostly outweighed by the fact that Sparkles* teased his precious warmth from him. That cannot be tolerated, and Martyn can feel the cold seeping back into him, tension curling back into his limbs.

Martyn's all like 'Bugger that.' now, letting what he has of his own warmth seep into the spines of the tree, but it's fairly clear that Sparkles* has noticed the attitude change, and isn't going to let that drop. On the other hand, the self-confessed asshole doesn't really seem to know how to go about it the right way. Not that Martyn knows the right way either, but, you know.

“Martyn.” Sparkles* reaches out and pokes Martyn's shoulder. Martyn, in all of his acquired pettiness, doesn't react but to turn away from him even more. The redhead isn't deterred, though, and continues prodding Martyn insistently – the glaring warmth of the other's touch both comforting and annoying Martyn. “Mart _yyn_.” The prodding continues, but Martyn stays focused on doing his best to help out the tree.

So focused in holding his tiny grudge is Martyn that he doesn't notice Sparkles* scooting closer and closer to him until the man positively drapes himself over him. Against Martyn's bare cold skin, Sparkles*'s touch almost seems to burn, the heat turning into something that feels far more like warm sunshine as he insinuates himself around Martyn somehow.

Against his own wishes, Martyn begins to relax again, something about the other man just making him feel warm and safe and actually vaguely alive. (By against his own wishes, he of course means, 'I wanted this all along.' Martyn thinks he's more cunning than he is.) While he stays curled up, he turns his head to look Sparkles* in his gleaming gaze, scowl slowly fading away.

By Sparkles*'s expression, this has gone exactly to his plan, but Martyn can't really complain. Well, he can and will at a later date, but not right now. Not when he feels like it's the middle of summer.

Sparkles* chuckles to himself, and Martyn makes a protesting noise without much heat in it. He can feel things uncurling under his skin – something only generally felt in mid-spring days – making the bruise tinge of his skin brighter, and just slightly more colourful. Martyn doesn't know what it is about Sparkles*, but he's not exactly complaining about it, if it lets him feel like he's out in the summer sun for a while.

He hears Sparkles* make a curious humming noise, and feels him run a finger over one of Martyn's bare arms. “What's this?” Martyn hears the man ask. Martyn just shifts into Sparkles*'s chest, shaking his head and burying his face in the warmth.

“Nothin',” He replies, voice muffled by the jumper. Martyn doesn't bother to look at whatever Sparkles* has found so intriguing – he can investigate later, when he doesn't feel like a flower-bud blooming. The crackling of the fire is only just in his perception now, yet the tree next to him seems to be blooming as much as Martyn is.

Martyn smiles. A proper smile, not a smirk or anything along those lines – a true and genuine smile. He curls up more, letting it all seep into his bones as he relaxes properly for the first time in months. He could almost feel like falling asleep right there and then.

So he does.

When he wakes up to find Sparkles* still sitting there, looking down at him with something almost like parental fondness, Martyn doesn't complain. He feels well-rested and _alive_ , and ready to take out whatever the outside world may throw at him. And whether the feeling disappears or not, over the remaining weeks of winter, Martyn can have this moment to remind himself that, well. The sun still shines even in the coldest times.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at screechfoxes on Tumblr. Have a nice day!


End file.
